prosthetics, not and whatnot
by nenoname
Summary: Where Hanzo gets a package, McCree makes an error in judgement and an attempt at wooing a dragon is made. (Just not in that order.)


Hanzo Shimada was a pretty distant fella. Due to a strange string of coincidences, McCree had the pleasure of somehow partnering up with the infamous assassin with the added bonus of not having to worry about the archer stabbing him in the back for his bounty. Well probably. The archer honoured his side of the deal so far and given the multitude of opportunities Hanzo had already, the cowboy was pretty sure he was trustworthy. Unless Hanzo was saving it until they caught a certain pair of Junkers to cash them all in at once- which was going to take a while considering how long they've been after them. You'd think a pair of explosion-happy outlaws going on a crime spree would be easier to track. But hey, the archer didn't seem to be too bothered by their lack of progress and his company was surprisingly nice. Yet even after months of travelling together, he was still reluctant to talk about himself and McCree didn't know that much about the man himself besides from what he heard back in Blackwatch.

Hanzo had a tendency for waking up early and sneaking off on his own, that's for sure. This time around, the gunslinger felt a pang of relief when he found him quickly in a small diner close by their motel. The archer was sitting at a booth staring at something as if it had personally offended him. Or was about to blow up any moment. Considering who they've been after, it wouldn't surprise him if it did both.

As he approached the table, that theory was quickly shot down by the sight of a large neatly unwrapped box. Somehow even the packaging looked real expensive. So unless the Junkers were the type to go all out on their taunts, the building was relatively safe from exploding.

"Whatcha got there, Shimada?"

Hanzo barely spared him a glance before focusing completely on what he held in his hands. One glimpse was all it took for the cowboy's stomach to drop like an anvil. Hoo boy. The assassin was holding what appeared to be bottom halves of a pair of legs with only mild confusion on his face.

"It appears to be a gift from Talon." Hanzo was ridiculously nonchalant for receiving a pair of fucking legs from a terrorist organisation. Hell, he only looked slightly irritated at most!

What the hell to address first? McCree cleared his throat. "Uh, Talon?"

The archer grunted as he lightly traced a finger on a faint seam running down the calf. Oh thank christ, they weren't real legs.

"Yer talkin' about the big ol' terrorist group Talon? The one hellbent on just fuckin' shit up? That Talon?"

Another grunt.

"This-," Hanzo said, finally turning to look at the cowboy and waving one of the legs in emphasis, "was apparently selected by one of their leaders, Akande Ogundimu." The name seemed familiar. McCree furrowed his brow as he stole a sip from archer's barely touched coffee. Wasn't that the guy who broke out of prison just a while back… who also happened to swear vengeance on all Overwatch agents? "It seems he has… taken an interest in me."

What.

"I never had any intention in siding with Talon and I particularly do not care for what they believe is best for humanity," Hanzo quickly clarified after seeing the shocked expression on the cowboy's face. "This has not been the first time they made an attempt to recruit me but it is likely far from the last," he let out a tired sigh.

McCree resisted the urge to ask him why the hell he didn't tell him about being basically courted by Talon back when they initially teamed up. Judging from his weary expression, the archer must have hoped they given up by now.

McCree's eyes turned back to the disturbingly realistic prosthetics.'They looked damn fancy', he glared at them as he subconsciously rubbed his own. His arm proved to be pretty damned sturdy so far but it felt like a cheap rusty piece of metal compared to this. Hell, the only tell they had that told him that Hanzo wasn't currently holding someone's amputated legs was that thin black seam and the nerve connectors at the end. He didn't want to know if they had the same texture as real limbs either.

Looked awful expensive even for a bribe from an ex-owner of a major cybernetics company.

A piece of paper peeked out from the wrapping when the archer bumped the discarded box with his elbow while rotating the left leg again. Hanzo was too busy glaring at the details on the foot to even notice McCree quickly swiping it off the table.

It was a handwritten card that read, "An upgrade that I'm sure you need because you've been running through my mind all day. " ...There was a winky face added at the bottom right next to a neatly signed "Akande Ogundimu."

Welp. Alright then.

McCree frowned at the flare of fierce irritation in his chest. ...Was he actually jealous?

Nope. Not doing this- he barely knew the archer! He was just… worried, yup worried! Who wouldn't be worried if their handsome partner received dubious gifts from a leader of Talon who literally punched his way out of a high security prison?

(...and somehow predicted their location to send the package in advance. McCree felt another pang of bitterness as he made a mental note to change up their travel plans.)

"What is it, McCree?"

He jumped and quickly scrunched up the card before shoving it in his pocket. "Nothin'! Jus' trash, is all!"

Hanzo gave him a suspicious glance before returning his focus to the metallic appendages. After finally coming to the conclusion that there wasn't any sort of trap imbedded in them and it was indeed just a pair of prosthetics, Hanzo dropped his head onto his hands with a frustrated groan.

"I do not understand why he decided to send me these? Is this some kind of threat?"

McCree blinked. "Huh? What makes ya think that?"

"Does it look like I have any use for them?" Hanzo grumbled out. At the lack of reply, he suddenly shot up and gave his partner a wary stare. "...Youare aware that my legs are perfectly intact?"

"..."

"We have been travelling together for months now!"

"..."

That day McCree learned that Hanzo Shimada had a fondness for skin-tight boots and honestly had ridiculously thin ankles.


End file.
